


Speak No Evil

by CatchyArtz



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Moon Cult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 10:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15555525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatchyArtz/pseuds/CatchyArtz
Summary: This is Atlas’ backstory.





	Speak No Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you might remember that Atlas is that same bunny boy character from the other fic I posted here (it’s been deleted because it was bAd).
> 
> High Priest Umbra belongs to [aquaquadrant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaQuadrant/pseuds/AquaQuadrant), but his appearance and probably even his nature is different in her canon.

**This is what Atlas looked like two years ago— or when this story takes place.**

The moon cult was the only group of people who knew the truth about the state of the world. Christians had it half right; it was true that the world and humans were corrupt and sinful. What they got wrong was the whole God concept. There was no benevolent entity coming to save humanity. If humanity wanted to survive, it had to save itself.

High Priest Umbra sacrificed everything to take the burden of making the world pure as it was always meant to be. He cast aside his name, his former life, and the people in it so that he could save millions more.

Some years ago, the High Priest decided he needed an heir. He charmed a woman and with her gave life to a child. He was named Atlas.

Atlas was the most perfect heir one could wish for. Obedient, strong, and intelligent. With training from the cult’s finest, he grew into an incredibly skilled young man who would follow his father anywhere.

Atlas never thought for himself. There was no need to. The High Priest Umbra had the answer to every question, and everyone accepted it because why wouldn’t you? There were no other ideas, religions, or viewpoints that could be more truthful than the moon cult’s beliefs. Anyone who opposed them was foolish and would ultimately perish in the end. The cult would do their best to save as many people as possible before the extinction of all sinners, but sometimes people could be quite stubborn.

Atlas never thought for himself because that’s what he was bred to do. Any other ideals were kept from him to prevent him from even having the chance to disobey. So Atlas, looking back, found it interesting that the way he was able to break free was sparked by the high priest himself.

He was walking back to his room from another day of studying, work, and training when the sound of hushed voices reached his ears. It was coming from the meeting hall. Usually Atlas would’ve ignored it, but he heard his name being said among the hushed whispers of his father’s most trusted cult members. So he looked around to make sure no one was watching, slipped silently behind a pillar, and strained his ears to learn why they were talking about him.

“You’ll have to tell him eventually,” someone was saying. Atlas assumed “him” was himself.

“I don’t have to do anything.” That was his father’s voice, as flat and cold as a slab of stone. “I do not imagine he’d take it well. The boy is too much like his mother.”

“You should kill him.” A jolt of alarm shot through Atlas, his hands tightening on the rock column behind him. “If you think he’ll resist, he must go.”

“No,” High Priest Umbra said lowly. “He is skilled. I’ve put too many resources into him to let him die now. As he grows we can simply continue taking advantage of him.”

“Are you developing _feelings_ for the boy, Umb—“ the speaker’s sentence was cut short, and Atlas heard a slam along with the same man choking.

“Remember your place, Jericho,” Umbra warned, voice as emotionless as ever. The choking sounds grew more desperate in pitch until they nearly stopped. Umbra let up and gasping could be heard from Jericho.

“No,” continued Umbra without missing a beat. “We will keep Atlas alive. He will serve us without question and never know of our true intentions.”

_True intentions…?_

“By the time I find the moon opal, it will be too late,” Umbra went on. “I will have the power of the moon, and it will be mine to do with as I please.”

Atlas’ breath seemed to freeze in his lungs as the realization struck him. He was clever. He knew what the vague pieces of information meant, and he wished desperately that he didn’t— that he could erase the words he’d heard from his memory forever.

Umbra had _lied_ to everyone in the cult. He wasn’t doing all of this for the good of humanity— he was doing this for his own gain.

The boy stumbled out onto the worn path by the meeting hall, his shaky breaths picking up in speed. Everything he’d been taught for the last fourteen years was a lie. Everything that had been painstakingly engraved in his mind mattered not. If nothing was true, what was there to hold onto? What could he base all of his thoughts and loyalty and beliefs on?

He couldn’t think or breathe— he needed to tell someone. Someone who would believe him.

He ran as fast as he could down the road, heading to the only person he trusted enough not to tell on him: Nanna. Nanna had taken care of Atlas since he was a child. She was essentially his mother since Atlas had no recollection of his biological mother and Umbra had forbade the topic when Atlas was very young. Everyone in the cult acted the same: cold, calculating, and focused on nothing but bettering the cult’s progress. Everyone but Nanna. She was the only one who showed at least a little bit of care towards Atlas. After all, he was practically her child.

Atlas was out of breath once he reached the dwelling places (not because of the run), and entered Nanna’s room without checking to see if it was alright to come in.

“N-Nanna!” he called, looking around. “Nanna, I need to talk to you!”

“Yes, child?” A middle-aged woman with dark skin and flowing brown hair stepped out of a side-room and gazed worriedly at Atlas, eyebrows knit together. “What is it?”

“It’s— it’s father,” Atlas blurted, struggling to find the air to talk. “H-he’s been lying this whole time. He’s a liar!”

“Breathe, moondust,” Nanna urged, radiating calmness and warmth as usual. “Sit down and explain to me. Slowly.”

Atlas shook his head. Sit down! There wasn’t any time to sit down! Not with the world-shattering knowledge he had uncovered. He forced himself to take a deep, shuddering breath.

“Father doesn’t want to save the world,” Atlas said, slower. “He wants power. For _himself_.”

Nanna smiled at Atlas and smoothed his wind-ruffled hair out. “No he doesn’t, you silly boy. Who did you hear this from?”

Atlas smacked her hand away and backed away slightly, frowning. “Yes, he does! I heard him talking with the High Council.”

“I doubt it, dear.” Nanna let her hand drop, but not her smile. “What did you hear him say?”

“T-that when he finds the moon opal, it’ll be his, and he’ll do whatever he wants with it. It’s not supposed to be his! It’s supposed to be a tool for saving the world!” Atlas looked close to tears, his hands clenched into tight fists by his sides. “D-don’t you believe me?”

“Of course I do. But it sounds like you misinterpreted what the High Priest said, Atlas.” Nanna’s visage softened as she took both of Atlas’ hands in her own. His fists relaxed and opened in the woman’s palms. “I’m sure he simply meant that once he finds it, he’ll make sure the world is reset back to what it was always meant to be.”

Atlas still looked doubtful, but much calmer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Nanna nodded firmly, giving Atlas’ hands a gentle yet firm squeeze.

Nanna always managed to make Atlas feel a better, no matter how convoluted the situation. He gazed at Nanna carefully. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Nanna said, making an x motion over her heart. “Now go to bed, moondust. It’s late and you have another day of hard work tomorrow!”

Atlas’ lips pressed into a thin frown, but he nodded curtly. He moved to exit the room, taking one last look at Nanna on his way. Her soft smile widened and she waved.

“Sleep well, little High Priest.”

Atlas dipped his head respectfully and stepped out into the hallway. He didn’t catch Nanna’s face falling solemnly as soon as she was outside of his view.

~ 0 ~

Atlas was awoken early in the morning as usual, but not to begin training like normal. The Servant who had come to wake him informed the boy that High Priest Umbra wished to see him.

That was odd. A faint feeling of panic began to rise in Atlas’ gut at the implications, but he forced it down. There was no way father could have known about him listening in on his meeting. There were no windows Atlas could be seen from.

Atlas nodded curtly at the Servant to dismiss him, and began to get ready hastily. Father did not like to be kept waiting.

As soon as Atlas made it to the High Priest’s room, the two guards stationed there opened the doors so he could pass. He continued walking briskly as the heavy double doors slammed shut behind him. The High Priest was sitting in his “throne”— a majestic seat elevated on a raised platform surrounded by stairs. His long black hair was tied into a neat bun, held in place by the traditional clip he always wore in formal settings. The dark robes he was garbed in cascaded from the chair to the floor.

Atlas bowed low as soon as he reached the foot of the stairs, pressing his forehead to the ground. “You summoned me, father?”

“Rise,” High Priest Umbra commanded, which Atlas obeyed immediately. “Do you know why I did?”

“No, father.”

“Hm,” Umbra hummed, rising slowly from his seat. Atlas had to tilt his head up to keep his gaze on the man’s cold eyes. “Surely you have a guess.”

Atlas’ heart jumped in his chest. He fought to keep from reacting. _There was no way he could have known_. “I don’t, father.”

Umbra gazed at his son as if studying him; looking into his very soul to see if he was telling the truth. “Nanna.” Umbra said the name like an order. Confused by the sudden mention of his caretaker, Atlas opened his mouth to ask what the High Priest meant before he was interrupted by the soft woman— his Nanna— brushing past him gracefully. She settled in place a little ways in front of Atlas, facing him. She seemed as serene as when Atlas had met with her the previous night.

Atlas didn’t register that his mouth was still slightly agape as he stared at Nanna, thoughts rushing through his mind a million miles an hour. Nanna… told father? Why? How?

He- he trusted her!

“Don’t look so surprised, Atlas,” Umbra’s smooth voice uttered. “There isn’t a follower of mine who would hesitate to inform me of… _deviant_ members.”

Atlas’ eyes were blown wide, he was sure. He tore his gaze away from Nanna to look at Umbra, doing his best to hide the panic settling into every bone in his body. “Father—“

“ **Don’t call me that.** ” Umbra had never looked so frightening, Atlas thought. Not when he was about to be disciplined, not when he did something wrong, not even when he broke that valuable artifact years ago. An infinite darkness Atlas was unaccustomed to had crossed over the High Priest’s visage.

In all the years Atlas had known him, Umbra had never shown any emotion. Now was no exception. Despite the void that seemed to be making Umbra’s face _visibly_ darker, he looked as chillingly calm as ever. There was not a hint of anger or disappointment on his face. Which only scared Atlas _more_.

“You don’t deserve to for doubting my absolute integrity,” Umbra continued, now beginning to move forward with his hands folded neatly behind his back like a shark preparing to strike its helpless prey.

Atlas tried to hold his stance, he really did. He knew if he tried to run or even move away the punishment would only be worse. But he couldn’t help the small twitch of his leg as it shifted backwards instinctively. Two sets of heavy arms snatched his smaller ones from behind, and although Atlas was extraordinarily powerful for his age, he was no match for two grown guards.

His breathing began picking up as Umbra drew even closer, his arms shifting almost mechanically to the front of his body to reveal a knife. It was short and blunt, meant not to cut cleanly but slowly and painfully. Atlas recognized it from previous punishments, but he was certain this one would be worse than all the others, especially when one of the guards kicked the back of his knee to send him crumpling to the ground and hooked their fingers into his mouth, forcing it open.

 _Oh, God. He was going to lose his tongue, wasn’t he—!_ As soon as the realization struck, Atlas began shaking uncontrollably. Usually, he was able to keep from making any noise during a disciplinary harming. But for this… he wasn’t so confident.

Atlas caught the sight of Nanna from the corner of his eyes, and he shifted uncomfortably under her stare. She looked the same. The same as when he was younger and the same as yesterday. That motherly warmth still radiating from her as if it were tangible heat. But Atlas now knew that was fake.

What was real? Was anything? Atlas felt like his world was being torn apart by the seams. All he’d known his entire life was a lie.

“Now, Atlas. I’m afraid I must remove the part of you that betrayed me. Let this be a lesson...” Umbra knelt before his disowned son and prepared to begin the process. Atlas whined quietly as the knife drew nearer, attempting pitifully to move back and away. He was met with the solid chest of the guard restraining him. “...Never speak against me again.”


End file.
